Page 74 of Mafia King's Bride

And just like that, life barges back in. “I’ve got to take this,” Dmitri says as he stands up. “I might need to leave the hospital for a while, but I’ll be back. I promise.”

As he walks away, I sigh and close my eyes. I just hope he’s safe.

I open my eyes again,blinking against the hospital’s harsh, white lights. The steady beeping of the machines, the smell of antiseptic—yep, I’m still here. My body protests as I shift slightly, everything feeling heavier than it should. But before I can fully process anything, there’s a loud pop that nearly makes me jump out of my skin.

I whip my head around, almost giving myself whiplash, only to see Viktor standing there with a ridiculous bouquet and an army of balloons.

“Welcome to the land of the living.” He grins, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Sorry about that. One of the balloons popped.”

I sigh, trying not to laugh, and watch as he awkwardly ties the balloons to the bedpost, the roses unceremoniously dropped on the bedside table.

“Hey, sis,” he says, pulling me into a tight hug, kissing the top of my head. “How do you feel?”

“Oh, you know,” I groan dramatically. “Like death warmed over. How did you know I was here?”

Viktor’s expression darkens instantly, his usual lighthearted demeanor clouded with irritation. “It’s not hard to find out which hospital your sister was admitted to when you hear that her husband let her get kidnapped by some Italian lunatic.” His gaze darts around the room. “Where’s Dmitri?”

Oh no. I can already sense the storm brewing.

“It wasn’t his fault,” I blurt, grabbing his wrist before he can fully channel his rage. The last thing I need right now is my overprotective brother going head-to-head with my husband.

Viktor sneers. “Not his fault? Like hell, it wasn’t. He created the mess, and you’re the one who got caught in it. You could have been killed!”

I sigh, my patience wearing thin. “Dmitri saved me.”

But Viktor’s not having it. “Saved you? He could’ve prevented it in the first place. Anastasia,” he says, softening slightly as he cups my face, “Orlov is bad news. I told Father when you married him that his enemies would become yours. And now look where you are. In a hospital bed.”

I mentally send a quick prayer to Dmitri:Please, wherever you are, do not walk in right now.

Because if Viktor sees him, there will be a brawl. No doubt about it.

Viktor takes a deep breath, gripping my hand. “That’s why I came back,” he says, his voice softer now, more earnest. “I came for you, Ana. I’m willing to pay whatever price Nikolai Petrov put on your head to free you from that brute.”

I blink. “Price? Viktor, you’re talking about going to war.” My stomach drops as the weight of his words settles in.

He shrugs, like we’re talking about a minor inconvenience. “It might not come to that. I’m working with Father again, and I’m pretty sure I can convince him to let a few things slide in exchange for your divorce.”

Oh. Hell. No.

I shake my head vehemently. “You left this world for a reason, Viktor. Don’t you dare come crawling back into it because of me. I don’t need you getting tangled up in this mess.”

But his expression is as stubborn as ever, his jaw set in that infuriating way that tells me I’m not getting through to him. “Don’t worry about me. I’m my father’s son, just like you’rehis daughter. But promise me something. Promise you’ll leave Dmitri. Get away from all this.”

And here it is. The moment I never thought I’d say aloud. I close my eyes for a second, steadying myself before the words tumble out. “I’m in love with him, Viktor. I love Dmitri.”

The look on his face is priceless. Shock, disbelief, a touch of horror. He stares at me like I’ve just grown a second head. “Did...did he threaten you?”

I groan, throwing my hands up. “Even if he did, why would I use ‘I love him’ as the excuse? I’m telling you, Viktor, Dmitrikilledthe man who kidnapped me. He promised to make everyone who had a hand in it pay.”

Viktor’s face hardens again, arms folded across his chest. “Yeah, to save face. You don’t think that’s convenient?”

I rub my temples, wincing at the pain but more at his thick-headedness. “Viktor Petrov, if you don’t stop acting like I don’t have a brain, I swear I’ll get out of this bed and smack you. I know what I’m saying. Dmitri loves me, and I love him. Period.”

He stares at me for a long beat, then finally sighs, standing up from the bed. “Fine. If you’re sure, I’ll let it be. But,” he raises a finger in warning, “if the day comes when he doesn’t save you, I’ll be the one to end him.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes at the theatrics. My head is pounding, my body aching, and my brother is making grand threats.

Welcome to my life.

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